


Son of a Preacher Man

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an old friend of Blair's shows up, Jim starts to question his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Son of a Preacher Man

Before I start, I would like to thank the people who sent me the lyrics and the encouragement. I would also like to inform you I now have Sentinel-itis. I am in the middle of a story; I just finished a story; and I am contemplating the sequel to Live Bait. Goddess give me strength. 

Son of a Preacher Man is by Dusty Springfield. 

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS. IF I DID DO YOU THINK I WOULD JUST BE WRITING ABOUT THEM. ANY WAY, THEY ARE OWNED BY PET FLY PRODUCTIONS AND UPN. I'M JUST BORROWING THEM FOR A SPELL. 

## Son of a Preacher Man

by Brandy  


Blair stormed back into the apartment. The men at the poker table looked up. Blair didn't even look their way. He grabbed the phone and dialed a number. 

"Yeah, it's me, Blair. My car is acting up again. Can you pick me up? ... Yeah, its apartment 307. I'll be waiting," Blair grinned. "No, no, uh uh," he sighed. "All right. I'll put it on. You realize this is blackmail....See ya in a few." Blair hung up and came into the kitchen. 

"Trouble with the Corvair," Simon asked with a smirk. 

"Yeah," Blair sighed as he grabbed a beer. "I'm going to have Nora take a look at it. She's good with stuff like that." 

"I thought you were going out with her," Jim said with a grin. "She's not going to appreciate being asked to look at your car." 

"It's not like that, Jim." The guys laughed. "Really. We're going out together so we don't have to go alone," Blair paused. "Oh, man I love this song," he said as he reached for the radio to turned it up and walked into his room. All of the guys at the table stared at him. This wasn't typical Sandburg's typical music. 

> __  
> Jimmy Ray was a preacher's son  
>  when his daddy would visit he'd come along.  
> When they gathered 'round the parlor talkin'  
> cousin Jimmy would take me walkin'  
> out thru the backyard we'd go walking,  
> And then he'd look into my eyes  
> Lord knows to my surprise  
> 

Blair began sing along with the song as he pulled off his shirt. 

> __  
> The only one who could ever reach me  
>  was the son-of-a preacher man  
> The only boy who could ever teach me  
> was the son of a preacher man; yes, he was, he was. Ooh.  
> 

He took a nipple ring out of his jewelry box and put it on. 

> __  
> Bein' good isn't always easy  
>  No matter how I try.  
> When started sweet talkin' to me  
> he'd come'n tell me ev'rything is alright;  
> Kiss and tell me ev'rything is alright,  
> And "Can I sneak away again tonight."  
> 

He began to rummage in his closet and came out with a white silk shirt. 

> __  
> The only one who could ever reach me  
>  was the son-of-a preacher man  
> The only boy who could ever teach me  
> was the son of a preacher man;  
> yes, he was, he was. Ooh.  
> 

He put it on and went back into the closet. 

> __  
> How well I remember the look that was in his eyes,  
>  Stealing kisses from me on the sly,  
> Takin' time to make time, Tellin' me that he's all mine.  
> Learnin' from each others knowin'  
> and lookin' to see how much we've grown.  
> 

He came out with a black leather jacket. It was obviously well worn. He put it on and stared at himself in the mirror. He nodded his head as though agreeing with something he'd said. 

> __  
> And the only one could ever reach me  
>  was the son-of-a preacher man  
> The only one who could ever teach me  
> was the son of a preacher man,  
> yes, he was, he was. Ooh.  
> 

He came out and said, "That song takes me back." 

"What do you mean? You had to be pretty young when that song came out, Blair," Simon pointed out. 

Blair just grinned. "Let's just say I once knew the son of a preacher man. And let's just say we got into a lot of trouble together," Blair said with a grin. 

There was a knock on the door. 

"That was pretty quick," Micheal said as he turned toward the door to see this friend of Blair's. Maybe she was cute. 

"She doesn't live all that far away. Actually, she said she had..." Blair trailed off as he opened the door. "Oh my God, Remy!!!" 

A guy stepped into the apartment and lifted Blair into a hug. The guy was huge. He was taller than Ellison and had Ellison's physical proportions. He finally put Blair down. Blair turned to someone in the hall way. 

"So this was your surprise," he said as he pulled Nora inside and hugged her. She was a beautiful woman. Red hair and green eyes proclaiming her heritage. "Oh man, I was just thinking about you," Blair said as he let go of Nora. 

"Yeah, we heard the song on the way over here. Didn't we, son of a preacher man?" Nora said as she hit Remy on the arm. 

He blushed and began to speak. "Ma cher, you got some sense of humor, non? To bring up a man's past like dat," he said in a Cajun accent. "Ah see dat you changed, non? Ah guess you owe me, cher. She bet me ten dollars dat you wouldn't. Ah say she wrong, but do she listen to me?" Remy and Blair both laughed at that while Nora blushed. 

"Come on, you guys. Let's go. We have more than a few clubs to hit tonight," Nora grabbed Blair's hand and tugged. 

"All right, all right. Just let me get my keys. I'll see you later guys have fun," Blair said as Nora dragged him out into the hallway. 

They heard, "Come on, mon petite. We must to do, non?" as the door closed. 

The guys went back to their cards and were quiet for a second. 

"Son of a preacher, huh? Bet he was pretty wild when he was growing up," Michael said with a smirk. "At least that is the stereotype." 

"What kind of name is Remy, anyway?" Paul asked with smirk. 

"I think its short for Jeremy," Simon answered with a grin. "I didn't know that Blair had lived in Louisiana. It doesn't seem like his sort of place." 

"Naomi probably went for Mardi Gras and hooked up with someone there," Jim said. They all snickered a little. 

"After meeting Naomi, I can see how Blair turned out so flaky," Paul said sarcastically. 

They all laughed again and went back to the game. 

But Jim was a little uneasy. He didn't think that Naomi was all that bad, and he didn't think that Blair was really a flake. He was just hyper, Jim thought with a mental shrug, and that sometimes got him into trouble. He turned his attention back to his poker buddies. Maybe he wouldn't be as easy on them tonight as he had been before.   
  


* * *

  


Jim was trying to sleep on the couch. It was four a.m., and Blair wasn't back yet. He was really going to give him a chewing out when he got back. Blair should have called or something, right? 

He sighed and rolled over on the couch. He knew he should get up and get back to bed, but he couldn't sleep. He turned on the TV. Maybe he could find a movie or something.   
  


* * *

  


"So, I just moved in with him. He doesn't even know. I just couldn't tell him, and he never asked," Blair sighed. 

"Mon petit, you don' 'ave to tell 'im," Remy said quietly. "But you should. This is what gives you the trouble, non?" 

"Yes," Blair sighed again. He looked up as Remy took his hand. Remy was smiling at him. Ooh, and it was that smile that started this problem /problem, what problem?/ all those years ago. 

"Ah've missed you, cher. Ah want to be wit' you again. Its why Ah'm 'ere," Remy said softly. 

Blair cleared his throat. His body was tightening. It had been along time, almost three years, since he had been with a man. 

"I can't promise you that I love you, Remy. But I don't think that this is about that, is it?" Blair said quietly. 

Remy smiled. "Non, mon petit, Ah want you, but Ah 'ave enough sense to know when you're in love." 

Blair straightened abruptly. "It shows." 

"Only to me, cher." 

"Where are you staying?"   
  


* * *

  


Jim jerked awake when he heard the key in the lock. He looked at the clock. It was 9 a.m.! Where had he been? However, when Blair walked into the apartment, his anger vanished. 

Blair smelled like Remy and sex. The smells of semen and sweat hung over him like a cloud. The faint scent of Remy still clung to him. The bastard must have kissed him good-bye. 

"Jim, what are you doing on the couch? Is everything all right?" Blair asked as he walked toward him. 

Jim quickly got up and headed for his bedroom. "I must have fallen asleep." He began to gather up things for a shower. "Did you have a good time last night?" 

"Oh yeah, the best. It was great seeing Remy again. We talked for a long time," Blair said with a smile. 

I'll just bet you did, Jim thought as he got in the shower. He could here Blair singing to himself. 

"The only one who could ever reach me was the son of a preacher man. Yes, the only one who could ever teach me was the son of a preacher man," Blair almost hummed under his breath. 

"Hey, Jim! I want to invite Remy over for dinner sometime this week. He's here for two weeks on business, and I want to show him some hospitality," Blair called. 

Hospitality, indeed! "I don't mind. Just tell me what night and I'll make myself scarce." 

"He want to meet you. He can't understand why I'm liv-er-rooming with a cop," Blair called back. 

"Sure, sounds like fun." Sounds like a tooth extraction without novacaine.   
  


* * *

  


Jim sat watching Blair as he cooked. He had refused any help from Jim, saying that Jim would only get in his way. He sighed. 

Is that the way Blair felt about him? Did Blair really think that he was in Blair's way? He sighed again as he smelled Remy coming up the hall. He got up in anticipation of his knock. 

"Hallo, Jim. Ah brought the wine," Remy said as he came through the door. "How is the cop business?" 

"Still putting away the bad guys," Jim said tightly as he took the bottle of wine from Remy. "Make yourself at home." 

"Thank you, Ah will," Remy said with a smile as he pulled off his jacket and put it over the back of the couch. He began to wander around the loft. 

Jim just gritted his teeth and began searching for a corkscrew. As he popped the cork out of the bottle, he noticed the label. You couldn't get this anywhere for less than $125 a bottle in Cascade. 

"Hey, who did you kill to get this bottle of wine?" he called out to Remy. 

"Ah 'ad my butler send it to me," at Jim's look of amazement and disbelief, he added. "Ah do own the vineyard." 

"You are the owner of Chateau Grande," Jim said faintly. 

"Oui, and we 'ave done well. Mais non, that year was almost our undoing. Thank God, dat year came out so well, or Ah would be in the poorhouse," Remy said with a grin. 

Jim grinned back and felt like smashing the bottle. He wanted to go back in time and somehow ruin the grapes that had matured that year. He was rich, successful, and he could take Blair away. 

He needed Blair. He knew it, and he was fairly sure Blair knew it too. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even know who to ask for advice. Maybe that woman Nora, he mused as he sat down with Remy and Blair to eat. She looked like she could keep a secret.   
  


* * *

  
Next week...

A gallery opening. Jim looked around. He was at a gallery opening. Blair had acted surprised when he had agreed to go, but he knew that Remy was going to be here. He wanted to make it as hard as possible for them to get together. 

Besides, this was Nora's art. He looked at a painting. He couldn't really make heads or tails of it. He sighed. what was he doing here? 

"It helps if you stand back a little," a soft feminine voice said from behind him. 

"Huh," he grunted as he turned. It was Nora. He smiled and moved back a few feet. She was right, of course. The whirls of color made more sense. It was beautiful. 

"Thanks. It's beautiful," Jim said with a sigh. 

"Come on," she took his arm, "I want your opinion on another piece I did." 

"My opinion? I'm not an art critic," Jim said as he escorted her toward the back of the gallery. 

"I think you are a critic on the subject of," she paused as they turned the corner, "Blair." 

Jim stopped in his tracks. It was a portrait of Blair sleeping. He was beautiful. His hair was mussed, and his eyes closed. Sunlight poured through an unseen window and highlighted his features. He was achingly beautiful. 

"Well, what do you think?" Nora asked with a grin. 

"I think its beautiful," Jim whispered. 

Nora smiled. "And the subject of the painting, what do you make of him?" 

"Blair is like an angel come to earth," Jim said before he thought. He stiffened quickly. 

Nora chuckled. "All the men think that about Blair," she said softly. "Come with me. I think you need to talk." 

Jim stiffened even more and turned toward her. "Why do I need to talk to you?" 

"Because you're jealous as hell. You think you don't know why, but deep in your heart you do," Nora said with a smile. "It'll help to talk about it." 

Jim looked down and nodded his head. Nora took his hand and lead him toward the stairs. 

"There are offices up here. We won't be disturbed," Nora said as Jim balked at the foot of the stairs. 

Blair watched them go and sighed. Well, he had never told Nora that she couldn't have a go at Jim, but he wished she wasn't so blatant about it. Remy put his arm around Blair. 

"Mon petit, Nora wouldn't done what you're dinking she goin to do. She jus' goin' to get to know 'im a little better, non?" Remy said with a smile. 

"Right."   
  


* * *

  


Nora was sitting on a desk and Jim was pacing. He looked over at her and looked back at the carpeting. 

"I don't know what's the matter with me. I don't want him with Remy. I know that their more than friends, but that shouldn't bother me. I'm straight. I've been straight my whole life. But then I saw that portrait, and...and...he was so beautiful. He is so beautiful, inside and out. He takes care of me. He watches what I eat, and he makes sure I sleep," Jim paused. "I take care of him too. I make sure he doesn't get hurt on the job, and I try to make sure he sleeps and eats regularly too, because he is just this little bundle of energy that doesn't seem to want to stop." Jim threw himself into a chair. 

Nora smiled. "You'd be lonely without him." 

"God, yes. The apartment would be too quiet without him there. I think...I think that I would even miss the messes he makes." 

Nora grinned. "You're afraid Remy will take him away." 

Jim froze in his chair. "Yes, I'm terrified that will happen," he said in a whisper. "Remy could do it. He had money, looks, and he could give Blair whatever he wanted." 

Nora laughed. It was long, loud, and rich. "No, Remy can't give Blair what he wants. Blair wants love, and Remy can't give him that, not the happily-ever-after love. Remy's married Jim. He's a Catholic. They broke up because Blair realized that Remy would never make an honest man of him." 

"If Blair wants love then why is he fucking him?" Jim asked as he jumped up and started to pace again. 

"He's lonely. He hasn't been serious with anyone in about five years. That includes men," Nora said softly. She smiled. "In fact, he hasn't been with a man in almost three years, except for Remy's visit." 

Jim just shook his head. "He has me, doesn't he? He can talk to me, he can cry on my shoulder if he wants to; I would take care of him if he were depressed." 

"Does he have you? Do you hold him all night long? Do you love him like you need him more than your next breath?" Nora stared into Jim's stunned face. 

"I'll see you later," Nora said as she spun on her heel and left the office. Jim slumped into a chair. He had to think.   
  


* * *

  
A few days later....

Jim sighed as he pulled up to the loft. The stake out had gone well, better than he had expected. But Blair hadn't gone. Remy and he had gone out tonight. He suddenly stiffened. 

Remy was leaving the building. He quickly got into his car and drove away. Jim got out of his truck and quickly made his way to his loft. All he could think about was that Remy had been in his loft. His loft! 

He jerked the door open and stopped cold. He could hear Blair crying softly. He started out the door again. Remy had hurt him, and the bastard would pay, but he turned around when he realized the only smell that didn't belong to the loft was Remy's cologne. 

"Blair, are you all right?" he called through Blair's door. He heard Blair gasp softly. "Blair?" 

"Yeah, I'm o.k.," Blair answered gruffly. 

"Are you sure?" Jim asked. "Do you want to talk?" He heard Blair laugh softly, bitterly. 

"No, I don't want to talk about," Blair said shakily. "Just leave me alone, o.k.? I just want to think for a while." 

"Blair," he hesitated. "Is this about Remy? I know you two are lovers." 

The door opened so quickly it startled Jim. He jumped back. Blair was standing there. His face was red, and his eyes were still wet. Jim tried not to notice his wet eyelashes, or how luminous his eyes appeared. 

"What do you mean?" Blair demanded loudly. 

"The first night he was here, when you came home, I could smell sex and Remy on you," Jim said as he stared at Blair's door. 

"And you didn't say anything," Blair said incredulously. 

"What you do is your business, Blair. I just wish you had been a little wiser in your choice of partners," Jim said softly. "He leaves tomorrow, doesn't he?" 

Blair looked down. "Yes," he choked out as he wrapped his arms around himself. 

Jim wrapped Blair up in his arms. "Come on. Let's sit on the couch," he said as he guided Blair over to the couch. They sat and Blair cried. After an indeterminable amount of time, the sobs slowed and then stopped. Blair pushed away from Jim. 

Jim frowned but let him move back a bit. He kept his arm around Blair's shoulders, however. He didn't want to let Blair go quite yet. 

"Thanks," Blair said as he sniffed and wiped his eyes. 

"Why?" Jim asked suddenly. 

"Why what?" 

"Why everything?" Jim answered. 

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think you would understand. You're just so *straight*," Blair sighed. "Remy was a comfort. I knew he was going to leave. I knew he wouldn't out me, but I did get attached. He was my first. It was stupid. I knew he was going to leave," Blair said on a sob. 

Jim hugged him, hard. "I would never not be your friend because you're bi, Blair. That would be stupid and bigoted. I just want a chance to be your friend, Blair. That means coming to me with the bad as well as the good." 

Blair sighed and hugged him back. They sat there quietly wrapped up in each other for a long time.   
  


* * *

That Saturday...

The sound of Blair making breakfast woke him as it usually did. The only thing different about this morning was the amount of sun pouring through his windows. It was Saturday. He sighed and rolled over. Breakfast wouldn't be done for another ten minutes or so he thought with a sniff. He rolled over and began to doze off. 

The sound of the door bell made him get up. They didn't usually get deliveries on Saturdays. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants while tuning into the conversation below. It was a messenger boy. He was delivering something to him from Nora. Nora?! 

He raced down the stairs to see Blair staring at the package. It was a little to large to be the portrait of Blair that had been at the gallery. Blair looked up. 

"What's this, big guy? Did you buy a piece of Nora's art?" Blair asked with a half-hearted grin. 

"Uh, no," JIm said uncomfortably as he remembered their conversation. He took the package from Blair. "The eggs are fixing to burn." 

As Blair turned toward the kitchen, Jim carried the package upstairs. He slowly unwrapped it. A card fell out as the first layer of wrapping came off. 

>   
>  To Jim,  
> A picture of your love.  
> Nora  
> 

As he stripped the second layer of wrapping away he sat on the bed. As the portrait came into view, he gasped. It was himself and Blair. They were obviously nude, although the sheet covering them left the more private bits private. Blair was sleeping, much like he had in the other portrait. And he ... he was watching Blair sleep. He was propped up on an elbow and his other arm was draped over Blair's chest. His leg was draped over both of Blair's. 

He heard Jim's gasp and winced. Nora often sent her lovers nude portraits of themselves. She said that immortalizing them in oil was her way of repaying them for the love they brought her. Jim had obviously not expected this. He sighed. Maybe Jim would show it to him, he thought then shook his head. Jim tended to be a very private person; he would never do that. 

He sighed as he took the eggs off the stove and made his way up the stairs. Maybe he could catch just a glimpse of the painting, at least enough to build some dreams on. The other glimpses he had had of Jim's physique had been almost two years ago and were starting to get fuzzy around the edges. 

He stopped on the last step as he caught sight of the note on Jim's dresser. 

>   
>  To Jim,  
> A picture of your love.  
> Nora  
> 

What?! He looked up and froze in shock.   
  
It was a picture of Jim and he together in bed. Jim was watching him sleep. What was this all about? he wondered. He received another shock as Jim began to stroke his form in the painting. He heard Jim sigh and put the picture down. Jim lowered his head into his hands and just sat there. He would turn around in a minute. 

"Jim, the eggs are ready," Blair said softly. "Jim," he said a bit louder. Jim jerked and turned around. "Breakfast is ready." 

"I'll be down in a minute," Jim said softly, sadly. 

Blair stepped up and onto the last step. "Is something the matter? What did Nora send you?" 

"Uh, nothing," Jim said quickly as he swept the wrapping paper over the painting. 

Blair smiled. He could pull this off; he just had to stick to a reasonable version of the truth. "Did Nora send you a portrait? She sends nude portraits to all of her lovers, you know. She says that she likes to immortalize her loves in oil." 

Jim stared at him. Him and Nora together? Where had he gotten this idea? 

"What do you mean?" Jim asked as he got up from his bed. 

"I saw you go up to the office part of the gallery that night," Blair said as he started down the stairs. "Not that I blame you for wanting to get a quickie. She was looking pretty hot that night." 

"We didn't have sex," Jim said as he followed Blair down. "We just talked." 

"Sure you did," Blair said with a grin. This was almost fun. If he could just get Jim to confess to what the conversation had been about, he would feel more comfortable about telling Jim how he felt. He could tell Jim that Remy had been a substitute for Jim. 

"No, really. All we did was talk," Jim was starting to get a bit desperate. As he took his plate from Blair, he started planning what exactly he could say to Blair without telling him the entire conversation. He didn't want Blair to think that his feelings for him had been caused by the thought of Blair leaving. 

"Listen, she and I don't have that kind of relationship if that's what you're worried about," Blair said as he sat across from Jim. Come one, big guy, spill it, he urged silently. 

"Really, we didn't do anything. We talked about you," Jim said as he began to shovel eggs into his mouth. "I couldn't understand why you would get involved with someone who was leaving in two weeks." 

Blair stared at him. He realized that this was all he was going to get out of Jim at this time. Oh, well there was enough time for the rest later, he decided. 

"That must have really pissed Nora off. She thinks you have a great ass," Blair said with a smile. 

Jim frowned. "Tell her I said thank you." 

"What did she send you?" Blair asked with a grin. "I'm dying to know." 

"You will never see what she sent me," at least not yet, Jim concluded silently. "It reflects her feelings about our conversation to say the least." 

"Well she has always been very vocal about her feelings," Blair said with a grin.   
  


* * *

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